


Stories

by MzyraJane



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Masturbation, Multi, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 10:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MzyraJane/pseuds/MzyraJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was this post I saw on Tumblr (http://rodrikgreyjoy.tumblr.com/post/75814683788), so...</p><p>'What I don’t understand is why there’s no fic of Bessa/Kyra/Theon? Or of Theon telling Robb about his threesome when Bran wasn’t around? It seemed like this wasn’t the first time Theon told Robb about his sex life, and I want to know how Robb would react to hearing the story.</p><p>    "Sweet Kyra," he said with a laugh. "She squirms like a weasel in bed, but say a word to her on the street, and she blushes pink as a maid. Did I ever tell you about the night that she and Bessa —"</p><p>    "Not where my brother can hear, Theon," Robb warned him with a glance at Bran.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stories

The girls gave each other a sly smile before simultaneously, slowly, divesting themselves of their clothes. Two sets of pale, smooth breasts sprang free from their confinements, nipples quickly dark pink and erect in the colder air. Then the shifts slipped down flat stomachs and narrow waists, resting a moment on their wider, womanly hips as the women waited expectantly.

Theon swallowed in excitement and anticipation, adam's apple bobbing beneath his close-cropped stubble. He quickly stripped off his tunic and undershirt, though careful not to damage his prize possessions, even as his own broad chest - strengthened by years of training for battle - was exposed to the elements. The girls smiled their approval, and allowed their dresses to finally drop to the floor, pooling at the bottom of long, lithe legs, which met with beautiful pink folds bordered by soft, hair. Their desire for Theon was obvious.

Though not yet so obvious as Theon's desire for them; his manhood straining against his laced breeches, his eyes torn over where to look. But Theon was a man grown, well experienced with women. He undid the laces with determination and without even having to look. "Which of you shall have the pleasure of me first?"

"I shall," Kyra said quickly, stepping forward boldly, eyes dark with arousal.

Bessa made a noise of anger and frustration. "You have had him so many times before! I have waited so long, it is surely my time."

"You shall both have had me soon," Theon said confidently as he stepped out of his own clothes. "But I'll not have you fighting over me. You should kiss, and make up."

The ladies took his meaning well enough, turning to one another and pushing their soft, plump lips together, hands exploring each other's curves, up to their breasts and down to their rounded buttocks, making gentle pleasurable noises. Theon came close and watched them hungrily, before approaching Kyra from behind and slipping his hard, thick heat where she was wet and warm. She moaned loudly and writhed and ground back against Theon with such experience and perfection - so different from the girl in the street.

Kyra and Bessa broke away from each other, and Kyra left Theon for just long enough to lie on the bed with her slender legs out wide and inviting. Theon moved close again and pushed back inside, Kyra's back arching in pleasure as he started to roll his hips against her, the muscles in his toned abdomen rippling, while his hands gripped her thighs.

Bessa came up behind him to feel the movement, her large breasts pushed full against his back as she smelt Theon's smell of ale and smoke, of sex, salt and iron - the ironborn smell. Her hands explored him: his jerking hips; his broad, manly chest; his large, heavy sack; his toned, tight buttocks. And the noises he made - low and deep, so manly and in control, mingled with the moans of pleasure from both girls-

 

"Robb? Are you in there?"

Robb's hand froze and he curled up over himself in an effort to hide at his younger brother's sudden voice outside the bedchamber. It was a struggle to find his own. "Leave me be Bran, I am... busy."

"Maester Luwin says it is past time for your lessons. He wants to make sure that you will know all the important House names and sigils before the King comes."

Robb groaned internally. "Yes, yes, alright. Tell him I'll be... a few minutes. Fifteen at most." Feeling how soft he had already gone in his hand, it would scarcely be worth the effort. Curse the King for his timing, curse Maester Luwin for his, and curse Theon for filling his head with such thoughts. But mostly curse _himself_ for listening each and every time Theon started telling his stories.


End file.
